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by starespressos



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Building A Home, Cats, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Love, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Renovating, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 09:52:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12296682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starespressos/pseuds/starespressos
Summary: Based onthispost.Forsuperkittycas. Happy anniversary!





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**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this](http://bamf-castiel.tumblr.com/post/165435740037/okay-but-like-dean-and-cas-buying-an-old-house) post.
> 
> For [superkittycas](http://superkittycas.tumblr.com). Happy anniversary!

”I swear,” Dean hisses, and his eyes are flaming with anger, ”I’m putting my foot down. You’ve asked me where I draw the line and this is where I fucking draw the line, _Asstiel_.”

Castiel flinches.

”Please, don’t,” he says, ”I can go pick it up right now. It’s no big deal. It’ll only take me-”

”Two hours, Cas. It takes two hours for you to go get that card.”

”Please don’t fight,” a young man says, coming to a halt next to them. His name tag says Alfie and he’s posture says awkward from head to toe. ”Or yell, or swear. There’s kids-”

”Ah! He mentioned kids, Dean! You better run!”

Dean rolls his eyes. ”Time to bring that up, then, ain’t it? It’s always time to bring that up, you –”

”I will bring that up as long as you’re being such a baby! Oh, maybe that’s the reason you don’t want kids, you want to stay one yourself!”

Alfie looks uncomfortable enough to melt through the cracks on the floor.

”Look, I’m sure, if you just told me what’s wrong, we could come up with a solution that’s… That’s quiet.”

”This fuckwit here,” Dean says, sticking up a thumb and pointing it towards Castiel, ”forgot his employee discount card.”

Alfie’s plastered-on smile fades slightly, but returns with new-found vigor.

”Excuse me?”

”I work at Lowe’s over at Kansas City,” Castiel sighs, keeping his voice dark. ”And I forgot my employee card at home.”

”Because you were too busy pestering me over nonsense,” Dean says. ”I can’t fucking believe you.”

Dean puts his hands on his hips and glances around. Their cart, filled to the brim with supplies collected from around the store, is idly standing next to him, ready to be kicked.

”And I said I could go get it,” Castiel continues, pressing on the words, ”but apparently, this guy is in such a hurry he can’t be bothered with-”

”You’re the one who’s been acting like there’s a fucking fire under your tail and I’m so d-”

”If this is about the card,” Alfie lifts up both his hand in a protective motion, ”I mean, if this fight will be over – or even taken outside with you checking out with an employee discount, that’s a thing I can arrange.”

Castiel lets out a sigh. Dean lowers his foot that’d been raised for a revolution against the cart.

”If that brings you trouble, Alfie,” Castiel says, ”I’d rather just… Just take the shouting. I know how hard it can be to get through the day in this line of work.”

”It’s no trouble, really, I assure you,” Alfie says, turning around and gesturing for Dean and Castiel to follow. ”It’s been done before. I’ll use – uh, no, I can’t use my own card, but… I’ll see what the rules say.”

”Great. Another delay,” Dean huffs.

”Please understand him, Dean,” Castiel whispers, ”he’s really doing his best, here.”

Alfie strolls over to a free cashier and exchanges a smile with them.

”Hi, Gabriel,” he says, ”could you borrow me your card? My POS is blocked again.”

”Sheesh, Alfie. How many times this week?”

”Three, sir.”

”Three times you’ve forgotten you can’t cancel a receipt as many times as you like.”

”In all honesty, one of those has been because I had to open a register for Charlie.”

”You’re hopeless, kiddo,” Gabriel says, raising his eyebrows. He yanks his card off from the chain it’s been dangling on with a set of keys and throws it Alfie’s way. ”My shift’s over in five. I’ll expect it back on my chain by then.”

Alfie turns back towards Castiel and Dean and smiles. ”Off we go, then.”

”See?” Dean whispers, ”at least some people still do things right.”

Castiel scoffs. ”How dare you. How very dare you.”

Alfie throws their things through the register as fast as possible – the faster he works, the faster he’ll be done with the arguing couple that’s now reduced to ogling each other with ugly stares. In his line of work, he sees arguing couples at times and the company policy requires to rid of them as swiftly and quietly as possible.

”Thank you, Alfie,” Castiel says, ”this is really helpful. I can’t thank you enough.”

”Maybe you should fuck him,” Dean hums.

”Maybe _you_ should fuck him,” Castiel counters, ”since he can do things right, unlike me.”

”Please,” Alfie says, trying to smile towards the next people in line.

”I’m sorry. Our financial situation takes a toll on us. Which is why I’m eternally grateful for your help,” Castiel says, ”the employee discount comes in handy with purchases this big.”

”It really does,” Alfie says and waits for Castiel to finish up with the payment. ”Now, have a nice day and… And happy renovating.”

”You wish it will be happy,” Dean snaps at Castiel. ”But there will be repercussions. You’ll assemble the cabinet.”

Castiel groans and starts pushing their cart out the door. Alfie shouts about having a nice day for the second time, but he apparently decided it’s better not to welcome them back later.

*

Castiel jogs his way back to the car after returning the cart. As soon as most of his limbs are inside, Dean is in his space, his hand resting on Castiel’s cheek and his eye contact intense enough to burn Castiel’s brain to stir-fry. Castiel nods – it’s a permission, it’s consent, and Dean kisses him in his post-shopping manner that’s filled with both adrenaline and tenderness. His lips stray downwards, on the skin under Castiel’s ear and down his neck.

”Dean,” Castiel sighs, ”we’re at a Lowe’s parking lot.”

”I love you, Castiel Novak,” Dean mutters, sending shivers down Cas’ spine. ”Each day I love you more.”

”I love you, my partner-in-crime,” Castiel hums, ”Or partner in nearly-criminal-discount-fraud.”

The smile on Dean’s freckled face is familiar and always overwhelming. It’s what makes Castiel fall in love all over again, multiple times a day.

Dean raises his hand and they high-five gently, intertwining their fingers afterwards.

”We should head home. It’s not gonna finish itself,” Castiel says, trying his best on what he hopes is a persuasive look. Dean scoffs.

”True,” he sighs and hesitantly lets go of Castiel’s hand to start the engine. He guides them from the parking lot before reaching out again. Castiel gives Dean’s palm a dozen kisses before interlacing their fingers again and letting their hands fall on his lap.

Castiel tilts his head to see Dean better. The light is bending slightly, evening closing in on them; it paints tufts of Dean’s hair in shades of gold and frames his face, making him appear divine. For years now, Castiel has, of course, known Dean is nothing short of angelic. He’d shaken the ground with the slightest of touches, fixed things within Castiel he’d already thrown in the trash, and – and _cared_. The amount of care in every single act this man did is almost too much, too intimate, too exquisite for Castiel.

That caused trouble once, but Dean stuck around and waited, too god-forsaken patiently, for Castiel to accept his love.

”Whatcha thinking about?” Dean asks, ”you’ve been staring at me since forever.”

”How we started out,” Castiel blurts out, ”and how I still, even now, don’t deserve you.”

”Today, out of all days, you’re gonna say something like that?” Dean says, idly squeezing Castiel’s fingers, ”really?”

”Uh-”

Dean’s smile falters.

”You don’t know what day it is?”

”I haven’t known what day it is since last month, Dean, please-”

”No! No, it’s alright. It’s just- It’s Monday. We’re not starting the week with remembering how hard things once were?”

Castiel frowns slightly, but lets it go. He knows he should have checked his calendar ages ago, but something primitive has awaken inside him during these last weeks. The battery in his phone died ages ago, as well, and he just couldn’t bring himself to charge it. He wants privacy. He wants to be alone together in the world they’re creating together with Dean. He wants them to attach memories to it together and with zero distractions.

*

Dean parks the car at the end of the narrow road only barely visible through willow trees and weed. He sighs and turns to face Castiel.

”All good?”

”Yes,” Castiel says, and feels himself beam at Dean’s caretaking. ”All good.”

Dean touches Castiel’s nose with his fingertip and heads out to take some of their purchases inside. Castiel follows his lead, hauling four bags on his arms and grunting while walking the stairs. It’s been a while since he last visited the gym, but that was alright – he’s getting enough practice with what they’re doing now.

Castiel leaves his bags in the corner of what will eventually be their living room. He breathes in the sea breeze that’s filled the house through the opened windows.

”Paint smell is almost gone,” he yells to Dean, who’s getting their last supplies in, ”I think we can start building.”

”And not a minute too early,” Dean sighs, ”if I have to eat standing like a horse for a minute longer, I’m done.”

Castiel smiles at him and opens the door to their newly finished patio. He grabs two of the many cleaned and smoothed out pallets leaning against the outer wall of their home and brings them in.

 

They start working in a comfortable silence, aware of each other’s movements. Dean gives the surface another round with high grit sandpaper, Castiel follows him with a wet cloth, cleaning the residue sanding dust. Every once in a while, he feels Dean’s eyes on him but doesn’t look up – he’s learnt to appreciate his quiet staring. He used to ask about it over and over again and thought Dean’s declaration of love wasn’t enough of an answer. Finally, one morning after a sleepless night with them almost blasphemously worshipping each other, Dean was staring at Castiel again and his gaze, however intense, had felt like a reinforcement to his feelings.

Before Dean can notice Castiel smiling and blushing at the memory, he turns around and stretches out to get a grip on one of the bags. It makes a screeching sound against the floor as he pulls it closer.

”Ready for legs?” Castiel asks Dean, who’s finishing up on the other side of the table now. Dean, clearly deep in his own mind, looks at him idly for a moment.

“The w- Oh! The legs!”

He gives the surface a once-over, and nods.

“Yes, I’m ready for legs.”

The steel legs, powder-painted white, are individually packed for some good reason, and Castiel decides he’s more of use just opening them. Dean is obviously lost in his thoughts, and he’d also want to show his ability as a carpenter by finishing up the table.  Castiel lets him. He’s got nothing to prove here – they both know he’s better with taking care of the home after their renovations are done. He could let Dean shine with carpentry, and engineering, and fixing some old appliances. They’d found an abandoned fridge by the parking lot near the beach, taken it home, cleaned it up and after hours of hard work, Dean had also fixed the electronics. It was mint green and beautifully unmatched with their honey-yellow kitchen tiles.

When Castiel is done with unpacking, Dean gives him another long gaze – this one calculating, and then almost nervous. Castiel tilts his head for a question.

“I was just wondering,” Dean’s answer sounds like it’s been practiced to perfection to use as an excuse, “whether I can trust you with linseed oil.”

“Hm? Why?”

“We need varnish. I don’t know, we might have some ready, but-“

“No, love,” Castiel grins, “why couldn’t you trust me with it?”

“Highly flammable,” Dean grunts, while poking a faint hole for the screw, “and I’m talking god tier stuff here. It, just.”

He frees his hands to put visual emphasis for the explosion sound he makes. Castiel huffs.

“I know. I’ll be in the garage, then.”

*

The garage never stops surprising Castiel. It’s already filled with all kinds of supplies – for renovating, for building, for the car – and it looks cozy enough for him to believe they’ve been living here for ages already. It’d only been weeks since they closed the deal with their seaside DIY dream, and he’d daydreamed of _so much_ since then. Animals, of course; lots of animals in need of shelter. Dean promised him cats, eventually, but made him promise he’d get to meet some felines first to see exactly how severe his allergies are. Maybe dogs, too – Sam’s already an expert on any rescue dog related matters. And a treehouse. And eventually, maybe, kids to accommodate said treehouse. It wouldn’t be on the table in a long time, but so far, they’re kind of open to the possibility.

As Castiel shuffles to the shelf to grab some tung oil, he feels a pang in his chest. He exhales sharply and lets the bottle drop on the table before placing a palm on his ribs. Now, what’s this about? He’d just been happy, thinking about family, and-

And there’s something off. He feels it in his gut. Ever since they arrived home, there’d been something troubling Dean. It couldn’t be result from their mock-fighting at the store; they’d been doing that for a while now and no new topics were breached during their argument. They’d agreed early on the subjects they were allowed to ‘fight’ over, since they’d want to keep it from being too personal, too hurtful, too serious, and until now, it’d worked like a charm.

No. It’s not about the store.

It’d been a while since Castiel had stopped doubting himself in their relationship. He trusts Dean now; he knows the man through and through, loves every detail of him, of course – and until now, he’d thought he couldn’t be shaken again. Did he do something wrong? Is Dean upset with him?

Castiel takes a deep breath in – hold, hold, hold - and a long one out. No, everything is fine. He’s decided to trust Dean, and trust himself. If something’s wrong, Dean will tell him. He needs to stop his anxious brain from overloading right now. It’s one of the first self-care methods Sam once taught him.  _Don’t wear yourself out over nothing._

He grabs some linseed oil and some essences and brings them to the table next to the tung oil. That’s about how much he knows without Dean’s help – but luckily, there was a recipe for varnish in a notebook that was now resting on the table, too. It’s not his first rodeo, either, but it’d been a while since they’d varnished the stairs and now he needs to re-learn about the accurate temperature, and how to use a water bath for it.

A couple of times, his anxiety tries to surface again but he gently places his focus on the task at hand. While he’s melting carnauba wax, he’s almost sure he hears an engine, and wheels turning – but when he stops to listen, it’s silent apart from the sound of the screw gun being used. _That’s right, anxious brain. He didn’t drive off and abandon you._

_And he never will._

*

It’s been silent for a while when Castiel returns. He can see the table, finished and turned around and now proudly standing in the empty space, but before he can move closer, he hears Dean’s voice.

“Close your eyes,” he says. “I’ve got something to show you.”

Castiel obeys. He can hear Dean moving closer, and feels the air thicken with anticipation, hidden excitement and joy. Before anything else happens, he hears a soft “Ouch!” and a giggle coming from Dean.

“Now, Cas,” he says, “I’m going to put something in your hands. You’re gonna tell me what it is before you open your eyes.”

“Why?”

Dean laughs again.

“You’ll see. Reach out your hands.”

Castiel obeys again, making his hands a palms-up cup.

“A little apart, please.”

Castiel feels he’s the worst with distances with his eyes closed. That could be a little apart or a lot apart, for all he knew.

Then-

Castiel yelps. There’s a cool touch to his palm, then another, and then-

And then, before he can feel anything else but _yes those are definitely little claws_ , he feels his eyes fill with tears.

“Dean,” he squeals, his voice a notch above a high-pitched whisper, “can I please-“

“Yeah, Cas, of course.”

He opens his eyes, and the first thing he sees are green eyes. Then, there’s a soft paw on his nose. Castiel gives in to his impulse, and pushes his face closer until all he can see, smell, or feel is kitten floof. He sobs, and laughs as the squirmy animal in his hands instantly seizes the moment and tries to climb on top of his head.

As he lowers his hands, his eyes meet Dean’s and only then does he realize Dean, too, is holding a kitten.

“They need company,” Dean says, answering the question not yet asked. “Now, before you say anything-“

“I love you, Dean,” Castiel whispers, and the way Dean answers his smile is nothing short of radiant. If he didn’t have his hand full of squirmy kitten and currently feeling like the happiest man in the universe, Castiel would almost feel bad about the way he panicked in the garage.

“I love you too, angel,” Dean says, “and as I was saying, these fellas are rescues. Sam has a friend who’s a vet, and someone brought these in for euthanasia.”

Castiel gasps a soft ‘nooo’ at the kitten’s ear and gives it a kiss in the head. Dean stops speaking to give them a warm look.

“And the vet asked if they approved of the kittens staying alive, instead. You know how stupid it is, the owner having the final say of their pets even after they decide to let them go. Anyway, after some hesitating they said yes and ever since, the kittens have been hanging out at the vet’s office. Since it’s peak kitten season anyway, and these guys look regular at best, they’re not the hottest stuff on the market.”

“Don’t listen,” Castiel says. “You are perfect. You have a nice nose. You have this lovely coat that’s black, but not, and your paws are in all different colors. Besides, there’s nothing better in the world than a tortie.”

“And eventually, the vet would have to put them down anyway, since they couldn’t stay at the office for good. That’s where we came in.”

Castiel hums.

“I approve,” he says. “As if I would’ve said no to any kittens you bring in.”

“But I know rescues are important to you. And this was an absolutely necessary rescue.”

“Did Sam bring them in just now?”

“Yeah,” Dean says, “along with some supplies for them. He was about to come tomorrow, but he couldn’t wait.”

“Aww,”, Castiel says, and finally lets the squirmy tortie go only to reach towards the kitten in Dean’s hands now, “I would’ve wanted to meet up.”

“He’ll be in for lunch tomorrow. He wanted to give us time to adjust to, you know.”

Castiel can only get another happy squeal out. As he takes the kitten, he gives a lingering, tingly kiss on Dean’s lips.

“To family,” he finishes the sentence. “And hello, you handsome kitten, you. Nice to meet you too, oh! It’s so nice to meet you. There’s nothing better in the world than a black cat. Are you gonna bring us bad luck, hm? I would love a witchy cat. Can you grow up witchy for us?”

Dean laughs and watches the tortie run through the living room. Castiel nods his head questioningly towards the patio door.

“I put up a fence already,” Dean says, “we’re safe.”

“I’m so happy,” Castiel says, and only then do his tears return. He kisses the kitten and lets it run after its sibling. He lifts his hands up to cover his face and feels Dean immediately come and wrap his arms around him.

“You alright there? I know, it’s not the ideal time, but-“

“It’s perfect,” Castiel mutters, “you’re perfect. We’re perfect.”

 _Almost_.

“Ah, good. Good, then. Charlie knows about our new family members and has already shown interest in babysitting, if we need space to renovate.”

When Dean steps back, Castiel’s smile widens. Dean lowers his gaze on his lips, but only momentarily.

“Is this something you’ve been planning on for a while now? Is this why you’ve been… weird?”

“Well, yeah,” Dean agreed, “when we came back home, Sam texted that he’s gonna bring them in. I was nervous.”

Castiel stepped closer, again, and puts his palm on Dean’s cheek.

“And how about your allergies?”

“Nothing I can’t deal with. If that’s the face you’re gonna give me, I’ll take my meds with a grin.”

“Yeah?”

Dean nods and pushes his forehead against Castiel’s. For a moment, they stand there in the hallway, breathing each other in, listening to heartbeats, and letting the world happen outside of their perfect little bubble of love. Then, Castiel gets a grip on his earlier trail of thought and presses his palms on Dean’s chest to push him further.

“Table finished?”

“Apart from that varnish, it is.”

“Will it hold?”

“What?”

“Is it stable?”

“Uh, I… I guess? Haven’t tried yet.”

Castiel hums approvingly and wraps his arms around Dean’s waist, effortlessly lifting him up. He carries him to the living room that’s now bathing in full orange and red hues of the sunset. It’s surreally beautiful, absolutely magical and as Castiel sets Dean down on top of the newly built table, they get stuck staring at each other. There, in their new home occupied with the patter of kitten paws running around, everything clicks into place. Finally, after nine years, everything falls together like it was never a puzzle to begin with – but a game of battleships finally finished, all forts and barriers crumbled down, leaving only the still surface of an ocean that went deep, deep and _deeper_ , into unknown territories they’re eager to explore together.

“Oh, I didn’t know this was what you had in mind,” Dean says, his voice a bit hoarse over the sudden swift in the atmosphere. He hooks Castiel’s hips with his legs and pulls him in. “This kind of stable.”

“Hmmm, close,” Castiel admits, “so close.”

Castiel knows he’s doing the voice – it’s a thing Dean loves, it makes him squirm and blush a bit. It’s authoritative, but not intimidating; it’s firm, but not forcing.

“We’ve got kids now, Cas,” Dean proceeds, “we’ve got to make sure we don’t traumatize ‘em.”

“Like I said, that’s only close to the kind of stable I was talking about. And if you can seize your joking for a moment, you’re letting me talk now.”

Dean makes a gesture of zipping his lips.

“Please let me finish before you say anything, okay?”

Dean nods.

“Alright. I’m gonna let you in on a secret. I’ve been hesitant today. I’ve been hesitant – not of us, of course. I know we’re solid. I’ve just feared you’re unhappy with me. You know what I was like when we met. I have come a long way, but sometimes I just take a step or two back and get nervous or anxious over whether you’re truly happy and if you really want to be with me, because you could get anyone else-“

Dean stops him with a huff.

“Shh! Yes, I know. I know that’s just echoes playing in my head. I know you love me. My god, you brought me kittens. I adore you. I adore us. And I’m in love with us, I’m in love with our love. And I’m so in love with you, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes are fond, but he really would like to talk. Castiel gives him a chaste kiss before continuing.

“Almost done. And it means the world to me that we’re doing this. You’re sitting on our first table and it looks so good! And our home, this lovely place we’re creating for ourselves… It means the world to me. I’m proud of you. And I’m proud of us.”

Castiel gets squeezed tighter into Dean’s leg grip.

“And everything’s so close to perfect. If only,” he tries to keep his voice calm and leans closer, placing his palms on the tabletop on both sides of Dean, “this was stable.”

Dean frowns and opens his mouth to protest, since the table is obviously firm, but Castiel gives him another kiss, _short_ , he’s telling himself, _keep it short so you can speak,_ while in reality he could keep on kissing forever.

“Would you,” he says, and another kiss, “be so kind and do me the honors,” and another one, “and make this stable?”

Dean hums and Castiel takes his head between his palms.

“Dean, will you marry me?”

There’s no hesitation in Dean’s answer. Castiel is drawn in for a kiss, a deep, a devoted, an almost possessive one. He pulls Castiel closer until he has no choice but to climb on the table on top of him. They exchange kisses – slow, heavy, needy, heady, intimate, chaste – while intertwining their fingers again. Dean hums in appreciation as Castiel gives him a couple of kisses on his chin and cheek.

“Is that a yes?” Castiel asks. Dean laughs and Castiel is sure he’s never heard it sounding that light.

“Hell yes, that is a yes, angel. Unless your brains are overwhelmed by kittens and you don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’ve wanted to do this for ages. I meant to save it for our anniversary, but I got reckless.”

Dean grins. “Well, aren’t you in luck, then.”

“What?” Castiel asks, and gasps. “What? Is it-“

“Yes, you caveman. It’s September 18th.” Dean bonks his head against Castiel’s and laughs. “I can’t believe you’ve forgotten what day it is.”

“I forget things with you,” Castiel says, “I’m too in love.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but his smile doesn’t falter.

“Forgiven, then.”

They stay like that for ages – Castiel supports his weight on his palms on each side of Dean’s head and Dean caresses his back with his fingertips. The sun throws its last beams through the door and the giant window, shedding light on the kittens now asleep on the floor, curled side by side. And while Castiel is certain he still has ways to go until he’s confident with all parts of himself, he’s overwhelmingly happy to know Dean would be there to walk him through it.


End file.
